A life so ordinary
by Amyra Morgenlicht
Summary: Drabbles of all sorts, tall and short, sane and insane. 'He could never resist those eyes. They were his downfall he mused fondly.'
1. Missing you

Missing You

"Give me the child" she implored beseechingly.

"What's said is said" he retorted.

"I didn't mean it" she cried.

"Oh, you didn't?" he replied haughtily.

"But that's not fair." she stomped one foot on the ground for good measure.

"_What_ do you think you two are doing?" boomed an irritated voice.

With a screech the miniature Goblin King dressed in black boots that went up his thighs, and a bed sheet functioning as a makeshift cape careened into the fair maiden, wrapped in a pink ballerina tutu clutching a wand topped with a glittering star. They toppled onto the floor limbs entwined in said cape their wriggling imprisoning them further. "Daddy!" they shouted in unison. "Save us."

"I don't think I should," the original version replied, face muscles straining in an effort to keep a straight face. "I've sent you to bed over an hour ago." Leaning against the stony entrance, arms crossed against his chest he peered down on the tangle. "Your Mother will have the three of us if she finds you've been up past bedtime."

"But I can't sleep", whined the fair maiden fixing him with large green eyes.

Inwardly sighing he walked into the room crouching beside them and proceeded to unravel the two little rogues with nimble fingers. He could never resist those eyes. They were his downfall he mused fondly.

"Mummy always reads a story before bed," said the blonde haired little tyke in boots.

"Well, your Mother is not here, son," intoned Jareth. "You'll have to make do with me today. Tell you what, change into your bedclothes both of you and I'll spin you a tale."

Squealing and giggling madly the children ran off while their father settled into the large armchair between their beds. Not for the first time in last few days he wondered if he should just hop over to Draganur and whisk his wife back home. Sarah's talents in diplomacy bordered on genius; otherwise he would have sent the old fox instead. _Troll negotiations be damned. Let them start a war, I can take them easily_, he thought mutinously. _It's not just the children who have trouble sleeping_ he finally admitted to himself as they settled into his lap with eager faces. _Come home soon, Precious._


	2. Winter

Winter

It was winter in the labyrinth. It had been coming on slowly, some time now. The temperature going down, down and down, never up. Snow did not fall, but it was exceedingly cold and the wind blew sharper with each passing year. What brought it on? Well it was not talked about. Every living creature of any kind was in unspoken agreement. They were attuned to the moods of a certain King. They dare not mention, that which should not be reminded of, for fear of 'The Bog'.

He was wandering aimlessly, like he sometimes did when the air got tight, and his mind stifled with the endlessly absurd grievances, inane goblins minds cooked up, and all he wanted was to escape. Taking a turn here, and then through there, his footsteps echoing on the flagstones in a desolate rhythm. Alone with the empty cage where his heart used to be, alone with his desperation. He revelled in the luxury of wallowing in misery without witness. Well, not completely. One was always watching. An old One with all seeing eyes.

Not once did she call upon him. Not even whisper his name. How could it be that he felt so much, and she felt nothing? Time passed and with it hope. There was so little left. How dare she, let him experience a tang of something, and the leave him with nothing. After all he had done for her, exhausting himself in the process. _If only she had never_...

He would not finish that thought. Words do have power.

A giggle to the left and he stopped straining his ears. Another giggle followed, slightly different in tone. Brows furrowed slightly he followed the sounds. It was coming from the orchard. Just behind the tree of peaches.

_Children..._

_...but how? I felt no summons. _

Crouching at the base of a cherry, a pair of familiar green eyes, crinkling with suppressed laughter, looked up at him. Blond hair wild and untamed framed the cherubic little face. One chubby finger lifting, "Shush Daddy," the child whispered.

The King of Goblins lowered himself down to the child wanting to correct, but his breath caught. Cutting through his disbelief he felt it, the well-known trace of his own magic, seeping from the boy in front of him. Upon closer inspection, those cheek bones, those ears. He stumbled and fell on his back.

_Impossible_.

"Dada," squealed another voice and a blur of brown and blue threw itself at his chest without warning. His arms came up reflexively to hold the little girl in place. He looked into mismatched eyes just like his own.

"What the devilry is this?"

"We are playing hide and seek, Daddy. And now you've ruined it." The boy pouted.

"'ide an' week." The little girl repeated popping a thumb into her mouth.

He strained his senses. There... he barley caught it, tendrils of time. The old one's magic. Though the Goblin King was master over time and space, the ability to look into his own future was denied to him.

Hope kindled in his heart, but he had to know, had to be certain.

"What's your mother's name?" he asked the boy.

"Goblin Queen", was the answer.

"What do I call her?" He tried again.

"You know what you call her," said the child. "Are we playing a new game?"

"Humour me, little prince."

"Pwecious," piped the girl.

The King laughed and he held her tighter.

"Sarah," said the boy. "Silly, Daddy."

"Let's go find, mummy." The children ran off.

The Goblin King followed at slower pace, but when he turned a corner, they had disappeared. He was not disappointed. He would see them again. He felt light. He felt immense gratitude for the sentient being that had granted him such a priceless gift. There was hope at last.

It was spring in the labyrinth.


End file.
